


Love to Heal

by tragedie



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, literally just shorts with Jacen and Hera because oh my god I miss Kanan and this little series, mostly fluff tbh, these are old completed ones from tumblr prompts lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 04:04:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15622143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragedie/pseuds/tragedie
Summary: After the loss of the love of her life and her adoptive son, Hera must learn to love, and to heal, with her little ace pilot.





	1. Bedtime Stories

Hera tucked her rambunctious son into his bed. She knew tonight would be a story night, because he was wide awake.   
These were the nights she dreaded and treasured the most. While the memories hurt, sharing them with her son helped her cope, and brought new, happier memories.   
“Ma‘ma?” He said. Then, in broken Ryl — she’d been focusing on that lately, as his Basic was good — “tell me ‘bout my kora?”   
Hera forced a smile and raised an eyebrow. “So, it’s one of those nights,” she mused, sitting next to her four-year-old on the bed. “Now, is this a Jedi Hero night or a funny night?”  
He clapped his little hands excitedly, eyes glowing with mirth. “Funny!”   
Hera smiled. These were the best nights. She thought for a moment, and the memory came to her as she thought of the meal they’d had for dinner tonight.   
“Did I ever tell you about the time Kanan tried to cook Rylothian for me and your grandpa?”   
He shook his head, already enraptured.   
“Well,” she started. “The key word is tried. Your kora used to say “do or do not, there is no try.” One of his Jedi sayings.”   
Jacen’s mouth opened, little eyebrows scrunches together. “Was’at mean?”   
Hera let out a light laugh. “I’ll ask your nera when he comes back. I’m no Jedi.”   
“But I will be!”   
Hera pursed her lips. Jedi didn’t get to live very long lives.   
Hera brought her son in close, holding him to her and wishing she never had to let go. “Your kora tried to make Rylothian, and he didn’t do so well.”   
His eyes widened. Jacen worshiped Kanan, and seemed shocked at the idea of him failing something.   
“That’s right, and he made a mess too. Just like you,” she teased, tickling his sides and reveling in his childlike laugh.   
Hera continued her story, embellishing some points as she surrendered to the memories.

“Kanan love, what are you doing? You know you can’t cook.”   
Kanan pursed his eyebrows in concentration, folding the dough carefully around the mix of spices, meat, and vegetables.   
None of which, Hera was sure, were the right ones.   
There were bowls, flour, mysterious liquids and powders strewn across the small counter of the Ghost’s kitchen.   
“Hey,” he protested. “I’m not that bad!”   
Hera fixed him with a look.   
“I just wanted to do something nice for you and General Syndulla,” he surrendered meekly. The wrap fell apart and he sighed.   
“You don’t have to impress me,” she said. “My father…well, he won’t be impressed by this. He’s hard to please, it’s not your fault.”   
Kanan looked even more worried. There was a streak of red sauce on his forehead.   
“Here,” she said. “Let me help.” Hera took the food into her deft hands and folded it, smelling the spices. She frowned, and took a small bite.   
She choked.   
“It’s…not awful.”   
“Thanks,” he said, not sounding pleased.   
Hera reached up and wiped the sauce from his forehead with a tender smile. “I’m sure I can fix it. Shoo.”   
Kanan pouted. “Let me help?”   
“Fine. Hand me the Kessel pepper.”   
Kanan floundered.   
“The orange one!”   
He handed her a small pouch filled with orange pepper kernels. She sprinkled it onto the mixture, then added a healthy dose of cooking oil and condor egg yolk. She finished it with Rylothian herbs her father had brought with her, then wrapped the mixture.   
“And done,” she said proudly. “The rest can make Ryl Soup with some water and herbs. Wanna taste?” She asked, and pinched off a small corner.   
Kanan ate it, and his eyes lit up.   
“Fantastic, love. As usual.” He smiled, then wiped the remaining sauce from his fingers on her nose.   
“Hey!”   
He placed a tender kiss on the tip of her nose, then fled the room to escape her wrath.

Her father was pleased.

Hera finished her story, coming out of her reverie with a warm happiness in her chest and a smile on her face. Jacen’s mirthful eyes were sliding closed.   
“And that’s bedtime, pika,” she said, placing one finger on the tip of his nose. “Boop.”   
He giggled sluggishly, and Hera returned to her room.   
That night, she dreamt of Rylothian spices and a certain very bad cook.


	2. Lost in Translation

Hera was trying, between missions and meetings and close calls, to teach her son how to speak.   
Specifically, how to speak both Ryl and Basic.

Her son was brilliant, her shining pride and joy.   
And sometimes, her most bittersweet reminder.   
His first word was kora.   
Father.   
When she heard the broken Ryl leave her son’s lips, she cried. She was not sure if it was joy or sorrow.   
At three, he was speaking full - if broken and somewhat unintelligible - sentences. Sometimes Ryl would slip into Basic sentences, confusing most bystanders but endearing to Hera. Many things were mixed and lost in translation, and sometimes even she couldn’t understand.  
One night, one of the few and precious ones she got to spend with her son, she heard him speaking to himself when he should have been fast asleep.   
At first, she ignored it. Her son had an imaginative little mind.   
Then she heard it, again.   
Kora.   
She froze, listening. He was speaking in baby Basic, with Ryl thrown in, as usual.   
What was not usual was what he was saying.   
“Hi kora,” his sweet voice sang. “I wanna be jus’ ‘ike you!”   
Hera pressed her forehead against his door, trying not to cry.   
“Tell me story ‘bout you an’ nerra.”   
Tears prickled her eyes. Brother.   
Ezra.   
Hera’s hand quivered over the door controls, and it slid open.   
Jacen looked at her with wide and guilty eyes, still alight with wonder.   
“Ma’ma!” he pronounced the Basic endearment with a Ryl accent.   
“Jacey,” she said, voice quaking. “Who are you talking to?”   
Jacen looked scared to tell her, afraid of how she’d react. He knew ma’ma cried when she talked about his kora.   
“Da’da,” he whispered, pointing to an empty corner. Hera squinted and saw nothing. Her heart fell.   
“He says he loves ya,” he said quietly. “An’ ya look sad.”   
Hera swallowed. She looked into her son’s eyes, full of wonder and so much like Kanan’s. She glanced at the empty corner. She couldn’t deny that the room felt charged with benevolent energy.  
“I’m not sad,” she said. “I just love your kora very much.”   
Jacen nodded. “I love ‘im too.”   
He perked up, looking at the corner as if he were listening. Hera heard nothing.   
“Da’da says…he’s watchin’…Ez-ra?” He pronounced the name with a confused stutter.   
Hera pursed her lips, blinking back tears. “Nerra.”   
His little eyes widened. “Nerra.”   
He put his little hand in hers. “Where they at?”   
Hera heard her heart breaking all over again. She wasn’t ready to see the wonder in her son’s eyes die. She didn’t want his heart to break.   
“Your kora is with the Force.”   
“Force?”   
“Ask your kora,” she said. She couldn’t keep talking or she’d break down in front of her son. She didn’t understand the Force as Kanan had.   
And she wasn’t ready for Jacen to know. The Force was a dangerous thing in these times — she’d seen it firsthand.   
Jacen’s lower lip stuck out in a pout. “Da’da went away. Said I need sleepy.”   
Hera smiled bitterly. “Your kora was very wise. It is time to sleep. Goodnight, pika.” Hera tucked Jacen’s blankets up to his little chin. His eyes drooped.   
“Night night, ma’ma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pika means loved one   
> Prompt: Jacen's first words


	3. Jedi Lessons

“You’re the Jedi!” squealed the brightly colored child, who looked up at him with big, wide eyes and disheveled green hair.  
General Syndulla has trusted Luke, of all people, with her nearly four year old son while she was on a highly important mission.   
In fact, General Syndulla had taken his place. He was grounded after the Wampa attack that left his face scarred and bruised.   
Syndulla was highly esteemed in the Rebellion. Among the first to rise up, she and her crew liberated the backworld planet of Lothal a year before the battle of Yavin. Her father was the legendary Cham Syndulla.   
And she was almost unanimously the best pilot in the galaxy. Not that Han would ever hear a word of it.   
Luke knew his mission was in good hands.   
He just hoped he could say the same about the child looking up at him with wonder and delight.   
“You’re like my dad! An’ma bro-ther. Ma’ma don’t talk ‘bout’em much…she sad. Didya know’em?” Jacen seemed winded after such a long sentence. He looked at Luke expectantly.   
His father…oh.   
Luke had heard the legends. Ben hadn’t said anything — he was as secretive and mystical as the Force — but you couldn’t go a day in the Rebellion without hearing them. The blind Jedi. The Wolf. One of the heros of Lothal. One of the last surviving Jedi from the old Order. Whispers, convoluted rumors.   
He looked down at the boy sadly, and knelt down to look him in the eyes. “No, I didn’t know your father. But I hear he was a wise Jedi. A hero. Some people call him the Wolf.” Luke tried to put as much gentle, childlike wonder in his voice as possible.   
Jacen Syndulla gasped with glee. “Ma’ma told me! Got me a wolf toy!”   
Jacen showed off a small plush of a white wolf. Luke smiled, making a show of petting its false fur. “‘Is name is Dume!”   
“Dume is a good boy, like you.”   
As for his brother…he could only guess he meant the other Jedi. The lost Padawan, the hero of Lothal. His story was even more convoluted than his master’s, and, like him, lost to space and time. If Luke did know him, Luke probably wouldn’t be the Jedi in charge. He heard Ezra Bridger was powerful, and was nearly a Knight before Luke even knew what the Force was.   
“And your brother went on a very long trip through the stars. He flew, like your ma’ma.”  
Jacen nodded. “Ma’ma told me ‘at too. I wanna see ‘im!”   
“Maybe one day,” Luke said. “The Force has its ways,” he said, wiggling his fingers and making Dume levitate before Jacen’s eyes.   
Jacen clapped his hands together in absolute joy. Luke wondered if the boy was Force Sensitive, like his father. If he was, he’d need a teacher…  
“Big owwie,” Jacen whispered solemnly, prodding the bandages on his face. Luke winced, taking Jacen’s hand away from his face. “What ‘appened?”  
“Jedi adventures.”   
Jacen stared, enraptured as Luke recounted his run in with the Wampa, embellishing the Jedi parts and the story of the attack on Hoth. He didn’t mention his time spent inside the innards of a Tauntaun.   
“And that’s how I got these scars! Me and my friends saved Hoth from the Empire, like your ma’ma.”   
Jacen clapped, giggling.   
“I wanna be just like you an’ da’da an’ bro-ther!”   
Luke laughed. “Not so fast! First, it’s bedtime. Your ma’ma said you couldn’t go to bed later than 20:30. And I already told you your bedtime story!” Luke handed him Dume as he pouted. “Tell you what, I’ll sit next to you until you fall asleep.”   
Jacen nodded happily, toddling over to the pull out couch and wrapping the blankets around him. He held on tight to Dume.   
“Master Luke?”   
Luke was only a padawan, but the title was endearing. “Yes, Jacen?”   
“Do you think I can be a Jedi?”   
Luke closed his eyes and reached out with the Force.   
Jacen shone bright like a star in this dark galaxy. Though not as brightly as Ben, or Yoda or…Vader, he shone all the same.   
The Force was with him.   
“Absolutely,” Luke said. “Maybe next time I can teach you some things.”   
Jacen’s drowsy eyes widened. “Thank you Master Luke!”   
Luke watched as the boy drifted off.   
“May the Force be with you, Jacen Syndulla.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hera is sent on a last-minute mission and leaves Luke in charge of Jacen


End file.
